E 




The Sullivan Road, 



A PAPER 



READ BY 



GARRICK M, HARDING 



BEFORE THE 



WYOMING VALLEY CHAPTER, DAUGHTERS 
OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 



WH,KES-BARRE, PA., 
1899. 




Class g^:?^^Sit 

Book jtJ^^^ . 



Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2010 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/sullivanroad01hard 



The Sullivan Road, 



A PAPER 



READ BY 



GARRICK M. HARDING 



BEFORE THE 



WYOMING VALLEY CHAPTER, DAUGHTERS 
OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 



^ 



WILKES-BARRE, PA. 
1899. 



Ezsf 

'Ha, (o 



Press of 

The Wilkes-Barre Record, 

Wilkes-Barre, Pa.: 

1900. 




INTRODUCTION. 



While there has been a great deal written on the Old 
SiilHvan Road there are not many such contributions to the 
literature of that subject as that made in to-day's Record by 
Judge Garrick M. Harding. He has undoubtedly spent 
more time in the vicinity of that historic military highway 
than any other living man. He has hunted and fished in its 
fastnesses for a life time, during all of which years he has 
been an earnest student of Wyoming history and of that 
interesting campaign when Gen. Washington sent Gen. 
John Sullivan to punish the Indians of New York for their 
atrocities at Wyoming in 1778 and other border horrors, 
less extensive but none the less bloodthirsty. How Gen. 
Sullivan's army came across the Pocono Mountains in 1779 
from Easton to Wilkes-Barre and then passed up the Sus- 
quehanna to accomplish its cruel but necessary purpose is 
graphically told by Judge Harding. Tn this article the 
judge weaves into the narrative much that is not in the 
books — facts that came under his personal observation as to 
the location of the Sullivan road and as to the traces, there 
are that remain to-day. It is this latter feature which gives 
the address its special interest. The history of its con- 
struction is well known, but its relation to its successor — 
the Wilkes-Barre and Easton turnpike— and other existing 
mountain highways is almost unknown by the present gen- 
eration and undoubtedly Judge Harding is the only^ man 
who can locate its real track from Wilkes-Barre to the 
Pocono.— Editorial from The Wilkes-Barre Record. 



The Sullivan Road. 



The necessities of the Continental Army operating in 
New Jersey in the early part of 1778 had withdrawn from 
Wyoming two companies of soldiers made up of men not 
only disciplined in military service, but thoroughly con- 
versant with Indian modes of warfare, thus weakening the 
defensive power of the settlers to a degree bordering on 
?xtual decrepitude. The few who remained, old men, mid- 
dle-aged men, young men, even boys, all endowed with 
matchless determination and courage, but all alike unprac- 
ticed in martial ways, and possessing only primitive, worn 
and inferior arms, were not equal to six hundred savages 
wielding tomahawks, spears and scalping knives, and aided 
and encouraged by four hundred well-disciplined and well 
armed British Rangers. The massacre of July 3d, 1778, 
Vv'as enacted ; surviving settlers were driven away ; growing 
field products were destroyed ; homes, after being plundered, 
v/ere given to the flames ; indeed, desolation in the imme- 
diate and near vicinity was for the time complete. 

Five days after the bloody and despoiling work had 
been done, or on the 8th day of July, 1778, the British Col. 
Butler, together with his savages and Rangers, took rapid 
foot back up the river. Why this early retreat no reliable 
explanation was either then or ever afterwards given. The 
whole valley, and likewise the country along the Susque- 
hanna Northward, at least as far up as the Chemung river, 
had been so smitten that the invader might have remained 
unmolested and in safety for months. Very likely, how- 
ever, he had been apprised of the fact that on the evening 
following" the massacre, a company of soldiers under Capt. 
John Franklin had arrived at Forty Fort. He may, too, 
have feared that other like companies were within call. 



5 

More than all, he had learned that the American Col. Butler, 
whose skill and prowess on the field of battle he had wit- 
nessed, and whose reputation for sagacity and promptness 
as an officer during the late preceding war with the French, 
was well known to all British military officials, had gone 
safely in the direction of the Continental Army for succor. 
His return almost at any subsequent day, with a force meas- 
ured by the needs of the time, was more than probable. In 
view of this the cautious Briton quite likely considered that 
an early retirement from the Valley was not only prudent 
but necessary. His rank in the British Army at this time 
was that of Major, though in what has been written of him 
subsequently in connection with the massacre he seems to 
have been styled Colonel. Possibly the merit in English 
eyes of that ghastly exploit demanded his promotion at an 
early day. Certain it is that as early as November 4th, 
1778, in the correspondence between his superiors, Sir 
Henry Clinton and Lord George Germain, he is spoken of 
as Lieutenant-Colonel Butler. 

The Rangers under his command were mostly well 
trained British soldiers, still a large number of them were 
American Tories, skilled in arms. The savages constituted 
much the larger part of his force. 

To them military organization was a restraint to which 
they were not accustomed, and hence was hateful to them 
in the extreme. Official military commands were equally 
so. , For the most part they did as they pleased ; they came 
when they pleased ; they went when they pleased. And al- 
though as a part of the invading force they retired apparent- 
ly Avith the British commander, still bands of them remained 
about the Northern pathway in sufficient nearness to reach 
by stealth with spear and scalping knife, with tomahawk 
and torch, the remaining and the returning settlers. In- 
deed, their frequent and murderous descents, as well by day 
as by night, upon imsuspecting workers in the fields, and 
upon defenseless women and children at the firesides, at last 
awakened the Board of War, and likewise the Commander- 
in-Chief of the Continental Army, to the necessity of rid- 



ding the Valley of Wyoming and the country northward to 
the Great Lakes of savages, Britons and Tories alike. Dur- 
ing the autumn and spring following, proper military orders 
were issued for the concentration of an adequate force to 
accomplish the object in view. The commands designed 
and selected for the purpose were largely scattered. Some 
of them were in the State of New York, some in New Jer- 
sey and some in Pennsylvania. The place of general 
rendezvous was at Wilkes-Barre. In April Maj. Powell 
with about two hundred men reached here, coming by way 
of the bridle path from Easton, through the Wind Gap, and 
so on by Bear Creek to the Fort at this place, the site of 
which was recently so appropriately and correctly marked 
by the Wyoming Valley Chapter of the Daughters of the 
American Revolution. 

It may be appropriate to remark in this connection, 
that there was a wagon road — as wagon roads then were — 
from Easton through the Wind Gap, and then diverging 
Northerly along the Chestnut Hill Valley to a settlement 
called Earner's, now Tannersville, about twelve or fifteen 
miles Northwesterly from Stroudsburg. The bridlepath 
before referred to, left this wagon road near the Wind Gap, 
and passed thence in a Westerly direction practically over 
the same route followed by the subsequent Easton and 
Wilkes-Barre Turnpike. At Laurel Run it ascended the 
"Three-Mile Mountain," passing near the spring where 
Mrs. John C. Phelps has placed the beautiful memorial 
tablet commemorative of the bloody work wrought upon a 
portion of Major Powell's command by a band of savages 
concealed by a pile of rocks below, and near the present 
summer residence of Mrs. Charles Parrish. The path con- 
tinued on a short distance to the summit of the mountain, 
and then descended near the Southerly edge of "Prospect 
Rock," keeping to the right of the now decaying and dying 
apple orchard of the original Spring House, and so con- 
tinuing down the mountain to the lowland or second hollow 
near the Empire colliery. Its distance to the right of the 
present traveled road at the crossing of the Central R. R. of 



New Jersey was probably from 150 to 200 yards. From the 
point near the Empire colHery to the river or Fort on the 
bank, its line was substantially that of our present North- 
ampton street. 

As a whole, this path was cut through the forest as 
early as 1762, probably earlier. It was more than a bridle- 
path, though not sufficiently wide for a wagonway. From 
1762 to 1769 it furnished, together with intersections made 
with it. almost the exclusive mode of approach to Wyoming, 
for persons ha^ang interests there, from Eastern and South- 
eastern Pennsylvania, from New Jersey, and from New 
England also, though the general route from New England, 
up to 1778, was by way of Poughkeepsie, crossing the Hud- 
son and Delaware rivers, and so by a road called the "Old 
Yankee Road," passing the Shohola, the Wallenpaupac, 
and on by Sterling and Cobb's Mountain to Capouse, near 
Providence, now a part of the City of Scranton, and then 
down the Lackawanna river to Pittston and other settle- 
ments North and South along the Susquehanna. 

But to return to the gathering of the troops : In May, 
1779, following the arrival of Major Powell's command, a 
regiment from Southern Pennsylvania reached Wilkes- 
Barre, and also a regiment originally from New Hampshire. 
Some other smaller commands were likewise upon the 
ground at about that date. During the same month four 
regim.ents, together with the artillery designed for the ex- 
pedition, were gathered at Easton, thus making at the two 
point's named, a disciplined force numbering between 3,000 
and 4,000. Gen. Washington tendered the command to 
Gen. Gates, who declined it by reason of age. It was then 
given to Maj. Gen. John Sullivan of New Hampshire, a 
skillful, tried and valiant officer. 

Between Wilkes-Barre, the appointed place of ren- 
dezvous, and Easton, where by far the larger body of the 
common force was assembled, a distance of upwards of 
seventy miles intervened, more than half of which was in 
part over steep and pathless mountains set with rocks and 
rocky ledges, and in part through an undulating and densely 



covered forest country overspread here and there with huge 
boulders, and interseamed by many swift, and hkewise by 
many sluggish streams. 

As before stated, a wagon road — of the times — had 
been previously opened from Easton Westward to the foot 
of Pocono Mountain, near Larner's, now Tannersville. 
That part of the army congregated at Easton began the 
march over this road towards the point of common ren- 
dezvous on the i8th of June, 1779, not, however, until the 
road had been so widened and improved by advanced work- 
ing parties as to make possible the passage of the artillery 
and necessary supplies and baggage. Still ahead of these 
working parties a detachment of several hundred men had 
been sent forward to build and open the road since known 
as the "Sullivan Road." This detachment was properly 
officered and consisted of riflemen, engineers, hunters, sol- 
diers, axmen, workers of almost all kinds, all necessary to 
complete a work so difficult in the shortest possible time. 

This movement of so strong a force of the American 
army from the Delaware towards another like force on the 
Susquehanna, alarmed the Indians very much. The Indian 
Council, however, was not long in coming to the conclusion 
that the purpose of it was the invasion and destruction of 
their settlements Northward towards the Canadas. They at 
once sought to turn aside the rapidly approaching danger 
by making murderous attacks upon the American settle- 
ments in every other direction where there were any. 
But their butcheries, no matter how horrible, nor in what 
direction, produced not the slightest change in the plans of 
the American military authorities. The proper work had 
been rightly foreseen ; its earliest possible accomplishment 
was the necessity of the hotir. 

Between the Delaware and the Susquehanna, there had 
been for years and years Indian paths on many different 
lines. One of them passed near the point then known as 
Larner's, and near the beginning of the Sullivan road. It 
was intersected by another of like character which started 
at the Lackawanna, and so up Roaring Brook and over the 



platea. on the top of Pocono to the place of union. An- 
other similar path ran up Spring Brook, and through the 
mountain depression at the head of Panther Creek, and thus 
down to the Lehigh just opposite the mouth of a stream 
running Westerly, and known as Trout Creek. And still 
another passed up Laurel Run and Kelley Creek, keeping to 
the right of Bald mountain and down its Southeasterly base 
along by a famous spring of the mountain's name to Bear 
Creek, at the junction of Meadow Run, and so up the latter 
for about a mile, crossing then through a depression in a 
ridge, commonly known as the "Big Ridge," and meeting 
the path first referred to about midway between the Lehigh 
and Shades Creek. 

There were also many other paths to and fro between 
the two rivers, above and below Wilkes- Barre, but those 
already mentioned were all that connected with, or crossed 
the Sullivan road. And while this road was being built, 
these paths were daily and nightly trodden by skulking In- 
dian runners, bearers of information to the Indian Council 
and their British allies as to the size, equipment and condi- 
tion of the coming army. The slaughter of Capt. Davis, 
Lieut. Jones and four other of their comrades, at Laurel 
Run during the preceding April, had served as a warning to 
all the roadbuilders. Every advanced party of the original 
detachment, every camp of workmen, and every intervening 
working force, was accompanied and guarded by expert 
riflemen, familiar as well with Indian tactics as with Indian 
stealth, cruelty, and cowardice. From Larner's, near the 
foot of Pocono, to the Susquehanna, not an Indian showed 
himself, though Andrew Montanye and Stephen Hadsall, 
guides for Colonels Courtlandt and Spencer, the road com- 
manders, both Revolutionary soldiers, and who after inde- 
pendence was achieved, lived in Exeter until about 1836, 
always claimed that they saw "Indian heels every morning 
about daylight, and fresh Indian signs every day all along 
the path." 

From Larner's, the starting point, on as far as Locust 
Hill, in Monroe County, the road authorities of the now 



lO 

several intervening townships, have adopted the Sullivan 
road as the public traveled road, and have worked it accord- 
ingly. There are a few divergences, but they are severally 
of short extent, and they are all near the original line and 
still perfectly plain and traceable. Northwesterly from 
Larner's, for a distance of about ten miles, the country is 
less roughly mountainous, though undulating or hilly, but 
not so to any serious extent. The soil is of a gravelly char- 
acter. At the base of one of these undulations several abun- 
dant springs were found. A camp for the road-builders 
was established here, some working Westerly still further 
on, and some finishing the parts intervening Easterly. 
While here it was difficult to get sufficient supplies forward 
as fast as the needs of the men required, and hence a name 
— "Hungry Hill" — was given to the locality. That name 
still lasts, and probably will last always. It was here, too, 
that a fatal accident befell one of the soldiers — a falling tree 
killed him. His comrades buried him by the roadside at the 
top of the hill, and the grave to-day can be seen by the 
passer-by as plainly as when it was first made. 

From "Hungry Hill" to the Tunkhanna, the first moun- 
tain stream of any size encountered, the road continued on 
Northwesterly through a similarly characterized country for 
about three miles. The passage of this stream was not at 
all difficult. The water during the ages past had worn and 
wasted the underlying rock so that a narrow and shallow 
channel already existed. Over this a way for the army was 
of easy contruction. Here and onward to the Tobyhanna, a 
distance of about two miles, the timber began to be very 
heavy. The undergrowth of laurel also had become in- 
creasedly dense. Near the Tobyhanna the Easterly ap- 
proach for about one hundred and fifty yards, was over low 
and swampy ground, and on the Westerly side of the stream 
for a distance of about one hundred yards the ground was 
of the same character. The stream itself at this point was 
at least sixty feet wide, and the bed of it was of clay-like 
mud. The road on both sides had to be filled in with logs, 
stones and earth. An actual bridge over the stream had to 



II 

be constructed. The bridge was at once named the "Sulh- 
van Bridge;" and although in later times it has again and 
again been supplemented by more artistic wooden struc- 
tures, and at last by a bridge of iron, still the original name, 
the "Sullivan Bridge," yet remains, and doubtless will re- 
main as long as history lasts. 

Something like a mile further on another and smaller 
stream was reached. This the road-builders called "Middle 
Creek." It has since been called the "Branch." Its size 
was inconsiderable, and passing the road across it was a 
work of small moment. Between the Tobyhanna and this 
stream, and near the Easterly side of the latter, another 
road-builder's camp was established, the workmen moving 
on in sections to Locust Hill, sometimes called Locust Ridge, 
a distance of about four miles. "Locust Ridge" is a mis- 
nomer. The elevation is in no proper sense a ridge. On 
the contrary, it is a distinct hill having a base of about a 
mile in diameter, and an elevation of six or seven hundred 
feet. It was originally covered mostly by locust trees. On 
its Southeasterly face it is free from rocks and ledges. Its 
ascent is rather steep, though not so much so as to render 
the surface valueless for agricultural purposes. There are 
now farms high up along the Southerly side, extending, in- 
deed, almost to the very summit. During all of Revolution- 
ary times. Locust Hill was a favorite halting place for our 
soldiers going to, and returning from the wars. 

Passing this locality the Sullivan road continued on for 
about one mile in an unchanged direction to the brow of a 
steep and rocky mountain. Along most of this distance its 
line has for some time since been occupied by a township 
road. Beyond this point, however, no township nor public 
road of any character has been laid in its track for upwards 
of ten miles. It descended the mountain referred to per- 
haps for a distance of two miles diagonally, reaching and 
crossing the Lehigh River about four and a half miles above 
Stoddartsville. At the place of crossing the water was 
shallow and the river bottom smooth and solid. No bridge 
was necessary, and hence no great delay was encountered. 



12 

Across the river, and the road-builders were for the first 
time in what is now Lnzerne County. 

From the Lehigh for three miles onward, the road 
passed over a stretch of country that is not hilly, but yet of 
a rolling character. It was at that time, however, covered 
with very heavy timber, and also with an almost impenetra- 
ble growth of laurel. Boulders, too, of great size, were 
scattered apparently in all directions. In order to avoid 
them as much as possible, the road was turned for a short 
distance in a slightly more Westerly direction near a small 
swamp about midway between the Lehigh and the Easterly 
branch of Shades Creek. A narrow, Southerly end of this 
swamp was soft and filled with a species of vegetable mold 
commonly known as swamp muck. In order to provide 
against the possibility of the miring of the animals pulling 
the artillery and the supply trains, a thick log filling was im- 
bedded or thrown in, thus making a safe highway for the 
passing of the coming armv, with all its necessary append- 
ages. On the Westerly side of this swamp the road circled 
back to its original direction, and as it passed up the adja- 
cent rise of ground, boulders had to be removed and stacked 
in a high ridge on each wayside. There they remain to- 
day, untouched for a hundred and twenty years, moss-cov- 
ered, apparently indicating a track made by nature herself. 
The work here was done by the road builders on Sunday, . 
and they gave a name to the swamp crossing — "Sunday 
Bridge" — which lasted until all the valuable timber in the 
vicinity was gone, and, indeed, still lasts with all the original 
timber-cutters yet living. 

From this point further on towards Shades Creek, a 
distance of three and a half miles, the surface of the country 
was not so rough, nor the undulations so like hills. The 
timber, though, continued very heavy, and the laurel very 
dense. About midway of the distance, however, a former 
fire, kindled by lightning doubtless, had burned over a terri- 
tory of several hundred acres. This was at once named 
"Burnt Plain," and the road-builders established here a 
camp which was used by them more or less even until the 



13 

advancing army came up. A short distance ahead, and the 
clearing now appears which for nearly lOO years past has 
been known as the "George Sax clearing." This clearing 
was the first subjugation of land for agricultural uses that 
was made over the track of the road on the Westerly side of 
the Lehigh River. And now, from this point back to that 
river, though a hard- wood undergrowth 120 years old 
stands irregularly along the line, still the road itself is yet 
distinct, and may be followed without the slightest difficulty. 
Indeed, through the "George Sax clearing," now a farm of 
considerable acreage, in many places the Sullivan road is not 
vet obliterated. It runs on the Easterly side of the old 
homestead about 100 yards distant. Another agricultural 
improvement over its track a short distance further on has 
been made ; it is the mountain farm of Mr. William Blake- 
slee. Passing through this, the line of the road is still on 
the Easterly side of Mr. Blakeslee's residence, possibly a 
distance of thirty or forty yards. Here begins a gradually 
declining grade over land yet uncleared. The road passed 
down about half a mile to the top of the first rise of ground 
or steep and short hill beyond the smaller branch of Shades 
Creek, a distance of about two hundred yards. At this 
point the Easton and Wilkes-Barre turnpike, built along 
here about twenty-four years afterwards, intersected it. 
Both roads now occupied the same line for half a mile, or 
until the crossing of the large branch of Shades Creek. 
Flere a steep hill a mile in length, had to be encountered. 
The Sullivan road passed up this hill and over it a distance 
Northerly from the later track of the turnpike of from forty 
to fifty yards. At the top of the hill the former turned a 
trifle more Northerly, and for two hundred yards or more 
passed down land still unimproved and uncultivated, leaving 
its trace however so plain and straight that any person can 
to-day look over it throughout the whole distance. Here 
another agricultural improvement was early made on the 
track of the road. After the building of the turnpike, or 
about the year 1810 and later, this place became a rather 
celebrated "hunting box" and hostelry — as hostelries then 
were. Tjie house was but a story and a half high, and not 



14 

more than thirty-six feet in front and twenty feet in depth. 
It had two rooms below, one used as a bar room, the other 
as a dining room. A one-story addition was attached to 
the rear, and this had three divisions, one a kitchen, another 
a pantry, and the third a bed-room. When, however, a 
crowd came along, all the rooms were used as sleeping 
rooms, the floors answering for bedsteads, and blocks of 
wood and pulled-ofif boots for pillows. In the winter sea- 
son this often occurred. The guests were haulers of wheat 
to Stoddartsville and to Easton from the Valley and from 
other wheat-growing lands Northward on the Susquehanna 
and the Lackawanna. The charge for lodging was our old- 
time shilling — twelve and a half cents — though this included 
the price of a gill of whisky, an "eye-opener," rarely un- 
taken either by the sound or the unsound sleeper in the 
morning. 

The line of the Sullivan road through this improvement 
was about one liundred and twenty yards Northerly from 
the later line of the turnpike. The former can still be dis- 
tinctly seen just in front of a decayed and abandoned arti- 
ficial cave that was originally made and used as a cellar by 
the occupant of the hostelry referred to. The road con- 
tinued practically about the same distance away from the 
subsequent turnpike line, though turning gradually in a 
more Westerly direction. At a point on the hill about 
three-fouths of a mile Easterly from Bear Creek, the turn- 
pike crossed the Sullivan road diagonally, the latter con- 
tinuing somewhat circuitously down around the present flat 
of cleared land at the base of the hill. Beyond this, prob- 
ably fifty yards, the turnpike crossed the Sullivan road 
again, and on about one hundred yards further it crossed 
back. From here on down to Bear Creek it was not again 
crossed by the turnpike until near the site of the present 
school house. Here the turnpike again came into it and 
followed in its line until within about one hundred yards of 
Bear Creek. The direction of the Sullivan road at this 
point was slightly Northeasterly. Just at the Easterly end 
of the present ice dam of Mr. Albert Lewis, the road struck 



15 

Bear Creek, crossing it and coming out almost exactly 
where the boathouse of Gen. Oliver is located, a distance of 
not less than two hundred yards Northeasterly from where 
the turnpike crossed the creek twenty-five years later. 

A fact should be noted in this connection which no one 
now living has knowledge of from personal observation. 
And, indeed, there are but few of us left who gained our 
information from the old soldiers who passed over the 
ground again and again while the struggle for independence 
was going on, and while the Wyoming Valley continued a 
centre of bloody contention. In 1779 there was a clearing 
on the Easterly side of Bear Creek extending over several 
acres of the flat land at this point. This clearing had been 
commenced as early as the cutting-through of the bridle- 
path some years before ; and every year subsequently it had 
been enlarged as the necessity of the times seemed to re- 
quire. It had been used for all goers and comers, but 
chiefly as a camping ground for soldiers going to, and com- 
ing from the distant battle grounds. There were several 
quite large log structures built upon it which were tem- 
porarily occupied whenever the weather was inclement. 
On the corresponding Westerly side of Bear Creek at this 
point, there was no clearing whatever until about 1804. 
Then Mr. Arnold Colt, the grandfather of our townsman, 
Col. Beaumont, cleared, or had cleared, a large part of the 
plot of land on which the beautiful residence and outbuild- 
ings of Mr. Albert Lewis are now erected. Mr. Colt, about 
the year 18 10, built a large and commodious house here 
which he occupied for a number of years afterwards. He 
was the contractor for the building of the Easton and 
Wilkes-Barre turnpike from Pocono Westward to Wilkes- 
Barre. The charter for this, then important enterprise, 
was granted in 1802 ; the road was completed in 1808. 

From the Bear Creek crossing the Sullivan road con- 
tinued on up the adjoining hill a distance of about one- 
fourth of a mile. Its course for this distance was somewhat 
circular, thus lessening the sharpness of ascent. A practi- 
cal level was here reached, and from thence onward for an- 



i6 

other quarter of a mile to the first crossing of the turnpike 
on the Westerly side of Bear Creek the road was straight. 
It is to-day distinct, plain and well-marked ; and in the 
absence of improvement for agricultural purposes, it will 
doubtless continue so for another one hundred and twenty 
years. Indeed, when the leaves are ofif, the Daughters of 
the Wyoming \^alley Chapter of the American Revolution, 
if any of them should ever be so inclined, may walk from 
the turnpike crossing last referred to, over the Sullivan 
road down to Gen. Oliver's boat-house, a distance of half a 
mile, without a guide, and without injury to bonnets, 
dresses, or shoes. 

It is most unfortunate that the tablet placed about a 
twelve-month ago along the turnpike near the residence of 
Mrs. Mayer, is incorrect as marking the track of the Sulli- 
van road at this point. The nearest distance of this tablet 
as now located, to the Sullivan road, is about two hundred 
and fifty yards Northerly along the turnpike to the top of 
the second rise of grotmd where the former is crossed by the 
latter as already pointed out. Onward from this crossing 
the two roads run side by side for some distance, the turn- 
pike on the Northerly and and the Sullivan road on the 
Southerly side. Some little distance further along, the 
turnpike runs into the Sullivan road and continues thus 
several hundred yards, crossing to the Southerly side, how- 
ever, before the present small red shale bank is reached. 
Beyond this a few hundred yards, the turnpike crosses to the 
Northerly side again, and from this point on down the hill 
to "Ten Mile-run," the lines of the two roads are parallel and 
but a few yards apart. Both roads crossed "Ten Mile-run" 
at the same place. The Sullivan road now began turning 
more Northeasterly in its course, passing over the imme- 
diate long and high hill away from where the turnpike runs 
a distance sometimes of one hundred and fifty yards. At 
the top of the hill it took its generally Northwesterly direc- 
tion, the turnpike striking it again and crossing it at the 
foot of the hill on this side just at the Easterly end of the 
stone filling recently placed in the latter by Mr. Albert 



17 

Lewis. It there rounded on the Southerly side the sharp 
adjoining hill. At the top, the turnpike again came into it, 
and from thence for about a quarter of a mile both roads are 
in a common track. Here, at the crossing of the small creek 
which takes its rise at the Easterly foot of the "Five Mile 
Mountain," and which still flows on in diminished volume 
until it becomes a part of "Ten Mile Run," the Sullivan 
road, so far as its construction under the supervision of Col- 
onels Courtlandt and Spencer was concerned, came to an 
end. This small creek, away back in time too early for 
other than conjectural measurement, had been dammed by 
beavers. A great meadow had resulted extending North- 
westward to the base of the mountain, a distance of half a 
mile, and varying in width from seventy-five to 150 yards. 
The place itself is worthy of a passing notice. Nathan 
Bullock began a clearing here about the year 1770. From 
him the locality took its name — "Bullocks" — and retained it 
long after the building of the Easton and Wilkes-Barre 
turnpike. When Gen. Sullivan camped with his army here, 
he gave the place the name of "Great Meadows." This 
name, however, was only of temporary continuance. Later 
it was known as the "Seven Mile House ;" still later, an in- 
dustrious German — George Matthias — occupied the clear- 
ing, and it was then known as the "Seven Mile Dutch- 
man's." In 1858 he was murdered, and his body was 
thrown into an abandoned well near the Southerly roadside. 
His murderer — William Muller — was early detected, ar- 
rested, tried, convicted and hanged at Wilkes-Barre. Now 
the place is known as the "Boulevard Hotel." Here, too, at 
the coming of Colonels Courtlandt and Spencer, was buried 
near the Southerly roadside another of the 
original roadbuilders who had suddenly sickened and 
died not far from the Westerly branch of Shades Creek. 
Several other burials were subsequently had in the grounds 
immediately adjoining. Previously to the occupancy of 
the unfortunate George Matthias, a family by the name of 
Eicke lived here for many years. The father and mother 
died here. The pond or small body of water lying just over 



the adjoining Westerly hill took its name — "the Eicke 
Pond" — from this family. In 1850 George Eicke, a son, 
who for several decades was the "court crier" at Wilkes- 
Barre, and whose grandson, Albert Barnes, is the present 
'"'court crier," pointed out to me the graves of his father and 
mother. Then, and for several subsequent years, all the 
graves were distinctly observable. Later occupants or own- 
ers of the grounds have, however, smoothed down the 
hillocks to a level with the surroundings, thus making 
identification of the spot now impossible, besides securing 
for it lasting obscurity. 

Of Nathan Bullock and his family no knowledge has 
come down to us further than that he had two sons, both 
grown men, at the time he began his clearing here. One of 
them was a lawyer. He designed to practice his profession 
in Westmoreland, then supposed to be permanently under 
the jurisdiction of Connecticut; the other was a vigorous 
and brave young man. The father and the sons, like the 
settlers in the Valley with whom they were almost in daily 
communication, had come to stay. When the British Col. 
Butler, with his Rangers and savages, made his invasion, 
the sons of Mr. Bullock hastened to Forty Fort to join in 
the common defense. Both went forth to battle on the dis- 
astrous third of July ; both were slain. The father remain- 
ed at home on that day. Knowledge of the conflict and its 
results was brought to him during the night following by 
fleeing survivors. He gave them of his bread all that he 
possessed. Sorrowing and suffering he remained where he 
had first stuck his stakes until two years afterwards, when 
he, himself, was captured by a marauding band of Indians, 
and taken away to Canada. Of his subsequent lot, history 
fails to give any account. 

But to return to the Sullivan road. Contemporaneous 
with the orders given to Cols. Courtland and Spencer for 
opening a road from Earner's Westward toward the Sus- 
quehanna, orders were also issued to Col. Zebulon Butler 
who was in command of the Fort at Wilkes-Barre, to open 
a like road from the latter place Easterly over and beyond 



19 

what was then known as the "Three Mile Mountain." No 
particular or definite point was indicated for the meeting of 
the two divisions of the contemplated through road. Both 
divisons were to be pushed forward with all possible dis- 
patch, each in its proper direction until a meeting was had, 
no matter where. 

Col. Butler was aware that a road constructed on the 
line of the bridle-path already described, from the level land 
below, up by "Prospect Rock" to the top of the "Three Mile 
Mountain," would be too rough and too steep for the safe 
passage downwards of the artillery and the supply trains of 
the coming army. He at once selected a more feasible 
route. Competent engineers and a force of road-builders 
consisting mostly of the then necessarily idle settlers in the 
Valley entered vigorously upon the work. A detail of well- 
armed soldiers was assigned as a guard to attend them con- 
stantly. The road started at the Westerly foot of the moun- 
tain near a spring known as "Bowman's Spring," and not 
far from the present coal breaker of the Franklin Coal Com- 
pany. The course up the mountain was generally Easterly 
along the mountain side, though in places it followed de- 
pressions, and was here and there somewhat circuitous. 
Reaching the summit, it passed on for a considerable dis- 
tance, coming near to the pleasant summer residences of 
Hon. Henry W. Palmer, Mr. F. A. Phelps, Mr. Charles W. 
Lee, Mr. H. B. Piatt and Mrs. John C. Phelps. Continuing 
on, it descended the Easterly side of the mountain to a point 
within about fifty yards Westerly from the station of the 
Central Railroad of New Jersey. Forty years ago the track 
of the road thus far was perfectly distinct, and could be fol- 
lowed with entire certainty from the place of beginning to 
the point last named. From this point the road continued 
directly up Laurel Run for a mile and a quarter. Here the 
turnpike came into its line and followed it down to the rail- 
road station referred to. At the intersection of the turn- 
pike the Sullivan road kept its Northeasterly course on to 
the summit of the "Five Mile Mountain," a distance at this 
point Easterly from the turnpike of about seventy-five yards. 



20 

It passed down the mountain diagonally, or in a Southeast- 
erly direction, the turnpike again crossing it about midway 
between the mountain top and the mountain base. Its 
course from this point on downward was somewhat cir- 
cuitous until it reached and crossed the small creek at the 
extreme Easterly foot of the mountain. From here to the 
present "Boulevard Hotel" its line and the line of the turn- 
pike are identical. 

Thus the Sullivan road was completed as a whole from 
Larner's, on the Pocono, to Wilkes-Barre. Lumbermen and 
passers-by, unlettered in the history of the road, frequently 
came in later times upon the camps of the original road- 
builders, particularly those camps between the Pocono and 
Shades Creek. These they always looked upon as camps 
of the army proper. There were, however, b'at five camps 
of the army between Easton and Wilkes-Barre ; one at the 
Wind Gap, the second at Larner's on the Pocono ; the third 
near the Tobyhanna, named by the officers, "Chowder's 
Camp ;" the fourth near Shades Creek, named by Gen. Sulli- 
van, "Fatigue Camp;" the fifth at Bullock's, named likewise 
by Gen. Sullivan, "Great Meadows." The names of the 
last three of these camps were altogether appropriate. The 
Tobyhanna at that day "was alive with brook trout." Col. 
Courtlandt had suggested to a number of the road-builders 
the propriety of securing during the day previous to the 
coming of the army a supply of these fish for Gen. Sullivan 
and the officers of his staff. The suggestion was readily 
adopted ; the fish were caught, the camp supper was a deli- 
cious surprise; the name, "Chowder's Camp," resulted of 
course. 

The march from the Tobyhanna to "Burnt Plain" on 
the succeeding day was the longest and the roughest moun- 
tain march made between the Pocono and Wilkes-Barre. 
The distance covered was about twelve miles. One of the 
wagons of the supply train and two of the gun carriages 
were broken down. A part of the army did not get into 
camp until after midnight. "Fatigue Camp" was surely no 
misnomer. 



21 

The march of the next day from "Burnt Plain," or the 
new name, "Fatigue Camp", was not undertaken until after- 
noon. It was the shortest of all the mountain marches of 
the army, the distance to "Bullock's" being only five and a 
half miles. Here was the meadow already described ; hence 
the name, "Great ]Meadows." 

The building of the Sullivan road was a military neces- 
sity of the time. No other possible means could then have 
been devised for effecting the imion of the proper forces 
necessary for the accomplishment of the purpose contem- 
plated by the Board of War and the Commander-in-chief. 
Considering the character of the country traversed, the com- 
pletion of the road inside of ten consecutive days was a 
marvel. The successful m.ovement of the forces over it 
within half that time was no less a marvel. An army num- 
bering upwards of four thousand disciplined soldiers was 
thus brought together at Wilkes-Barre. On the ist of 
August following, its march Northward up the Susque- 
hanna and onward to the interior of New York was begun. 
The valor and the success of that army history has fittingly 
recorded. Its return by way of Wilkes-Barre occurred on 
the 8th of October ensuing. On the loth of the same 
month it began its further return march from Wilkes-Barre 
over the Sullivan road towards Easton. Five days after- 
wards, that place, the original starting point, was reached. 

In conclusion, it would perhaps be proper to add that the 
long continued distinctness of the track of this road is less 
attributable, probably, to the passing and repassing of Gen. 
Sullivan with his army, than to the fact that for twenty-nine 
subsequent years, or until after the completion of the Easton 
and Wilkes-Barre turnpike in 1808, it was the only wagon 
way from Wilkes-Barre over the intervening mountains 
and the Pocono to Stroudsburg and other points in Eastern 
Pennsylvania. Its use during the period mentioned was 
continuous and of great avail as well to the constantly multi- 
plying settlers in the Valley as to the general public travel- 
ing to and fro between the Susquehanna and the Delaware. 



